Electrum's Secret-Part 1
by KJG
Summary: Beachcomber returns to the Golden Lagoon...and finds passage into a negative realm.


"Hey, little buddy! What are you moping about?" Beachcomber, his train of thought derailed, swiveled around in surprise. He relaxed when he saw the source was familiar; a white sports car slowly pulling up through mangled grass. The car came to a sudden stop and transformed, revealing a robot of considerable height. 

"Oh, hi Wheeljack. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular," Beachcomber sighed as the other robot lowered himself to the ground, on the edge of a large crater. 

"You don't lie very well," Wheeljack chuckled with his gruff voice, "I can practically see the monkey on your back." 

Beachcomber forlornly looked up and inquired, "How did you find me, Wheeljack? I didn't tell anyone back at the Ark where I was going." 

"I'll admit I had a little help," Wheeljack slyly admitted, "I communicated with Cosmos, his orbit going over here not too long ago, and asked him if he saw you. He didn't have too much trouble, so here I am." 

"That cat has good eyes," Beachcomber admitted, "but unfortunately, he can also see the mess this valley is." He waved his right arm at their surroundings, a scarred habitat of charred trees and burnt vegetation. "When I found this place months ago, it was beautiful; so secluded and peaceful." 

"But you also found that golden pond of Electrum, which made us temporarily invulnerable." 

"That's where all the trouble started, Wheeljack! I knew but was afraid to tell anyone, resulting in the Autobots rolling blindly into this place, to be attacked by the Decepticons, who discovered the lagoon too. Sure, the Electrum wore off and everyone was okay, but this valley was destroyed in the process! Then, Megatron went and blasted the pond with his cannon, leaving only this dusty bowl! I should have told Optimus before it was too late..." 

Wheeljack sighed and rubbed his chin. "It's unfortunate that some of Earth's natural beauty gets destroyed in our battles," consoled Wheeljack, "but it's hard to avoid. Beachcomber, you did what you thought was right and things still worked out. Even if you had told us about the Electrum, the same destruction probably would have occurred." 

Beachcomber, frustrated with himself, hopped into the lagoon and began to pace. "A few dead bushes isn't what's ailing me, Wheeljack," explained Beachcomber, "I managed to get a copy of an Earthling magazine on endangered species and found out that this valley held the last known couples of Navajo falcons. They had one pair, male and female, in captivity, but the female died. So, they came back here to retrieve another female, only to find that all the remaining falcons had been killed in our battle. A species is dead because I couldn't decide whether or not to speak of my findings. I'm a geologist, for Primus' sake! My job is to report these things! Those Falcons are just like us. We get picked off in battle and if we die, we're forgotten about and replaced! Bellyaching about those birds will soon pass and humans will focus on an endangered crocodile somewhere!" 

Wheeljack stood up, trying to be consoling. "It's not your fault that those Falcons died! You had no way of knowing about that. It's a freakish thing which can be regretted, but not changed." 

Beachcomber, losing his cool for probably the first time in his existence, muttered, "Damn it all, Wheeljack, those words are hollow!" and kicked the ground. To his surprise, the large stone that flew off exposed a metal sheet. He knelt down and did a quick scan on the material, revealing it to be a strong steel alloy. "Wheeljack," Beachcomber said, quite startled, "Have a look at this!" 

Wheeljack trotted down to where his friend was kneeling and bent over to observe the find. "What do you think it is, Beachcomber?" 

"It's not just a soda can someone threw in here. The metal composition is in fact very similar to that of our spaceship's, the Ark." 

"Whatever this is must be buried deep," Wheeljack said, his curiosity stimulated. "I'll call base and report our find. Could be something important under there." 

"Do that," agreed Beachcomber, anxiously prying dirt off the uncovered plate, "and have a team sent to dig up this treasure!" 

***** 

"Zowee! Would you look at that!" 

Beachcomber smiled at Warpath's enthusiasm. Optimus Prime had sent Sideswipe, Ironhide and Huffer to help uncover the object buried under the crater, which they had accomplished in only a few hours. Warpath and Jazz had followed in case any "Decepticon Bogies" managed to nose their way into the operation. Now, all seven Autobots stood around the crater, gawking. The metal plate turned out to be the hatch of a moderate-sized spacecraft, a mystery that sat quite contentedly, for however many years it had rested underneath the once golden lagoon. 

"Wheeljack, do you think this is some sort of Decepticon trick?" Ironhide pondered out-loud, his voice showing his hatred for their foes. 

Wheeljack looked up from a device that the excavation team had brought along. "I doubt it. My scan says it's been buried here for at least three thousand years!" 

As Huffer whistled, Jazz asked, "Any idea where it came from?" 

"Remarkably," Wheeljack exclaimed, "It's descended from the designs of Cybertronian spaceships that existed back before we left and hit Mount St. Hilary on Earth!" 

"So this thing is from Cybertron?!" Huffer gasped. Before Wheeljack could respond, Sideswipe finished wrenching off the hatch's lid and added his own view. 

"It sure appears that way, Huffer, so why don't we go find out?!" 

"I don't know if we should do anymore investigating until we report our progress to Prime," Huffer warned. 

Beachcomber, overwhelmed by his large curiosity, stepped forth. "I discovered this craft, so I'll go first. If I'm not out in ten minutes, come get me." 

"Beachcomber, let's wait," Jazz suggested, but it was too late. Beachcomber was already down the hatch and out of site in the dark interior of the craft. 

"These younger Autobots are so impetuous!" grumbled Ironhide. 

Jazz laughed. "Look who's talking! Aren't you the one who once rode valiantly into a live volcano?!" If Ironhide could blush, he would have turned beet red. 

Inside the craft, Beachcomber shone a light on a dusty control panel and asked aloud, "I wonder what these doohickies do?" 

"They control this ship's flight, were it to be manually controlled." 

Beachcomber jumped around to see nobody near him and stuttered, "Wh-Who said that?" 

"I am this ship, an unmanned scout vessel sent from Cybertron to find an ancient group of Autobots detected on this world years before. I was to relay any evidence of their existence to Cybertron, but my communications systems were destroyed in an asteroid shower. I was forced to conceal myself underground until a future team of Autobots could salvage me." 

Beachcomber tried to hide a mix of elation and surprise. "Why was there a pool of Electrum over you?" 

"Autobots on Cybertron had discovered that great pools of liquid existed on this planet and decided it must be the rare element, Electrum. Through devious dealings, they managed to acquire some. It was stored in me, for release into a pit I would bury myself in, if camouflage was required. That is what occurred, of course" 

Beachcomber let out a chuckle. "I'm afraid water was the liquid your programmers were supposed to use. I am one of the Autobots you speak of, though." The computer seemed to get excited, but before it could say anything, Beachcomber noticed a glowing doorway set around a corner. "Hey, what's that?" 

"I believe you refer to the Parallel Entrance, an experiment that was being conducted from within me, so the effect of space could be tested on it." 

"Well, I wonder where it goes?" Without thinking, Beachcomber stepped through the doorway. He passed through the glow, felt a strange tingle and then exited...right where he had entered. "That was strange," Beachcomber admitted, but I somehow feel gypped! " He then recalled the computer. "I will return with more Autobot information that you seek." The computer stayed strangely silent as Beachcomber opened the hatch he thought was left open. Suddenly, gold liquid burst forth and splattered all over his face. 

Beachcomber gasped. "Electrum! Where did that come from?!" Figuring the ship must have somehow released more of the odd substance, he slipped out the hatchway and forced it shut, only to find himself immersed in a pool of gold. Oh, the surprise that his friends outside must have had when the crater began once again began to fill up! He swam up to the surface and crawled onto the shore, Electrum dripping off him. "Hey, guys! Sorry about that! Guys?" There was no other Transformer in sight. And to top it off, the valley looked as good as new. Only then did he realize that the ship he just departed had still been buried under the lagoon's floor. 

"What's going on?" Beachcomber whispered as he stared around at the tranquil valley, filled with furry forest creatures that were beginning to happily snuggle up against his solid legs. "Have I gone back in time?" Wheeljack told him things couldn't be changed. But if he had managed to go back to the past, he could still tell the Autobots about the Electrum! Stupefied and anxious, Beachcomber wandered out the secluded valley's entrance, a natural mountain corridor that led to a shoreline. He had been there before and recognized the area, but was excited more by seeing five familiar figures probing the beach ahead; a scene that appeared very familiar. 

"Perceptor! Seaspray! Powerglide! Warpath! Windcharger!," Beachcomber hollered while running towards the group. "Aren't you Autobots a sight for sore optical sensors?! I have something important to warn you of!" 

"Are you out of your gourd?" hissed Windcharger as Beachcomber stopped in front of him, "Where did you come up with the term 'Autobots'? I am dishonored to be called anything but an Autocon!" 

"Autocon?" Beachcomber quickly asked, surprised, "Did you say 'Autocon'?" 

"That's what the man said," growled Powerglide, "You got a problem with it? Say, when did you get a gold paintjob?" 

Perceptor focused his microscope on the befuddled Beachcomber and stated in a high, but sharp voice, "That, my friends, is not paint! It is Electrum and would be a most useful weapon if we were to acquire some. Beachcomber, where did you find this?" Beachcomber, startled by their attitudes, was reluctant to answer. 

"I think...," Beachcomber began, "that is something I should only tell Optimus Prime." 

"I think that you're in danger of showing mutiny towards our cause," Seaspray warned with his gargled voice. 

"If I may ask," Beachcomber asked, having a hard time not flinching, "What is our cause?" 

"I've heard enough of this!" yelled Warpath, his voice devoid of his usual cheerfulness, "We're taking you back to base for insubordination!" Beachcomber knew that if he ran, the Electrum would protect him, at least temporarily, but he didn't want to take that course of action. It seemed best to stick around and find out what in Primus was going on. 

"If you think it's necessary," Beachcomber replied with a mellow shrug. 

Warpath whipped out a pair of cuffs and clamped them on Beachcomber's wrists, while muttering, "It is necessary that we find the Electrum. If you prevent us from doing that, we'll be forced to extract the information from you!" Warpath was enjoying this...Beachcomber gulped as he was tied to Powerglide's back. 

"Back to base," ordered Perceptor and, in synchronization, the robots lifted into a hurried flight. 

After a good while, Beachcomber glanced around and asked Powerglide, "Why are we heading out to sea? The Ark is the other way." 

"Why would we want to go to that scrap pile?!" laughed Powerglide, "The Autocon base is far superior!" On cue, a large, purple tower rose out of the ocean and a drawbridge opened. 

"We're at Decepticon Headquarters!" Beachcomber gasped, "This is your home?!" He struggled futilely at his bonds. 

"Boy," laughed Powerglide, "You really must have a few screws loose!" 

"If he doesn't talk," said Windcharger with a wicked grin, "his whole head will be loose!" 

***** 

"Beachcomber, I am...ah...disappointed that you will not reveal the Electrum's location to us." Beachcomber looked up at the throne that was turned away from him, unnerved by the familiar voice that spoke; one he had always admired but was now weary to trust. "I could send out search teams around the area you were encountered and apprehended, but I have a feeling the Electrum source is hidden or we would have found it by now. Will you talk?" The throne then swiveled around, revealing Optimus Prime, glaring at the golden figure before him through steepled fingers. Beachcomber was speechless. It was not the fact that the Transformer he always knew as the greatest Autobot leader was sitting on a throne composed of dead comrades or that he was painted jet black instead of red and blue. It was the realization that Optimus Prime did not have the red autobot symbol on him, but the purple design designating a Decepticon. Come to think of it, all the "Autocons" he met were wearing the Decepticon symbol, but it had't been noticeable until being so pronounced on Prime. 

Beachcomber composed himself and answered the robot he wasn't so sure was his leader, "I am the last one to voluntary commit dissension, but..." 

"But you refuse to talk!" screamed Optimus Prime, springing up and causing Beachcomber to leap back. "Do you really expect me to believe that rubbish you said earlier, about 'it being for the good of every sentient being'?!" Beachcomber stared at Prime with fret, as he continued to mock him. It was incomprehensible that a being so honorable could be capable of such slander. Beachcomber swore, if this was one of Brawn's stupid tricks he would... 

Everything in the room went silent. Prime looked past Beachcomber and Ratchet, who had been silently working on a computer console, was gawking in the same direction as Optimus. Then Beachcomber recalled that a voice had asked a question from the doorway, as if in passing, and had paused indefinitely. Beachcomber thought over the voice one more time and slowly turned around, an icy terror gripping him. It was true. The voice had come from none other than Beachcomber; not the hand-cuffed Beachcomber covered with gold Electrum and being tried for disobeying orders, but a blue and gray version that had sauntered into the room and was now returning the horrified glance. Optimus Prime broke the suspended moment of tension with an order. 

"Blue Streak, I believe we have a spy on our hands! Put him in the brig!" The silent Transformer stepped out from the darkness he had been standing in and grabbed the Electrum-covered Beachcomber's arms. As he dragged him past the other Beachcomber, they exchanged a mystified stare. Once the supposed spy was gone, Optimus Prime turned to his Beachcomber. 

"Our enemies chose to use a double of you to spy on us. Consider it an honor. Next time, if they want to get anywhere they'll have to dispose of the original, though. Now get back to your post!" The Autocon Beachcomber jumped out the door and dashed away, still confused. Prime returned to his throne and sat, immersed in deep thought. 

"Ratchet," Tracks asked as he appeared from another console and walked over to his comrade, "I heard that Electrum wears off soon after it is put on an organism's body. Why does Lord Optimus want it so much?" 

"When Perceptor was a scientist back on Cybertron," replied Ratchet quietly, so as not to disturb his leader's thinking, "he did extensive research on Electrum as a weapon and discovered an ingredient to make the covering permanent. Perceptor has been able to fabricate the ingredient here, but never has found any Electrum. If we get our hands on a source of it, we'll be permanently invincible!" 

***** 

"Get in there, spy!" 

Beachcomber crashed against the back wall of a small cell. Blue Streak turned on the force-field and marched away. As he looked around, he noticed that the cell was the same one he had been put in when the Decepticons had captured him during the first encounter with the Electrum. He had managed a lucky jailbreak at that time, but the instance was unlikely to occur again. Even so, why were Transformers he had known to be friends acting as his enemies? Flustered, Beachcomber curled up on a bunk and put his head in his hands, now uncuffed. 

"I can't believe this," he sighed, "I've seen another one of myself! How could that be? I came to tell my friends about the upcoming disaster and now I am being jailed for keeping it from them. Are they in any way my friends, though? Are they the Autobots?" 

"Autobots?" asked a tough voice from another part of the cell, hidden by darkness, "I think you mean Autocons. The only bots around here are the Deceptibots!" Beachcomber watched as a figure emerged into the light. 

"Rumble! You're being kept prisoner, too?! I'm being held captive with a Decepticon?!" 

"Deceptibot, Bro," corrected the little robot as he sat down on the bunk next to Beachcomber, "Yeah, I was helping my fellow Deceptibots stop the Autocons from stealing all this energy from a power plant. You see, they plan on making these energon cubes so they'll have enough power to return to our home world and defeat all of my friends there. I was captured and those Autofreaks probably think they'll break me out, but my boys are smart enough not to try that for awhile. Hey, how do you know my name anyway? Who are you?" 

Beachcomber shrugged. "Beachcomber's my name, but I have no idea why I'm here. Where I come from, the Autocons are called the Autobots and are trying to stop the Decepticons from stealing Earth's resources. This is just all wrong." 

Rumble laughed. "I think you've been drinking too much antifreeze, man! If we ever get out though and you need help, just come with me to the Deceptibots! 

"I just may," Beachcomber wearily commented, distraught from the circumstances. Just then, a figure appeared in front of the cell and shut off the force-field. Beachcomber looked up to see his visitor and gasped once again. His twin was standing there, looking quite nervous. 

"Let's make this quick," the other Beachcomber ordered, "The Autocons know a way to make Electrum permanent and will do anything to get it. I've always hoped for peace between our warring factions and realize that if this plan succeeds, the Deceptibots will be destroyed. Therefore, I'm breaking you out. Go back to your group and find a way to stop this from happening!" 

"Hey," criticized Rumble, "How do we know you ain't lying?" 

"He's not," the golden Beachcomber assured him, "I can tell." 

"I guess you can!" exclaimed Rumble, "I just realized that, besides the color, you two could be twins. It's gets kind of confusing, though, just like me and my brother Frenzy..." 

"Let's go!" said the other Beachcomber with annoyance in his tone. 

"Okay, okay," sighed Rumble, "I'll shut up." Without another word, the Autocon Beachcomber led the freed captives to a chamber and ushered them in. 

"When this door shuts, the chamber's top will open and you can swim out of here. Good luck." Before Beachcomber and Rumble could thank their newfound ally, water filled the chamber and they swam for shore, undetected. The beach was a welcome sight for Beachcomber, as well as for Rumble, who had been held prisoner for months. 

"Ah, sweet freedom!" exclaimed Rumble. Beachcomber, realizing no time was to be lost, asked Rumble where his base was. "It's pretty easy to get to from here. The Ark is..." 

"I should have known you would live in my pad," Beachcomber said with a smile. I think I can find my own way. Jump in." Beachcomber changed to his dune buggy form and Rumble followed suit, changing in to a cassette tape. With a small thud, he landed on Beachcomber's driver seat and yelled, "C'mon, let's go home!" 

***** 

  



End file.
